Five, Six, and a Holiday
by Skylark Evanson
Summary: "And don't screw it up this time, you nit." *Holix!


**A/N: Just a drabble that popped into my head after watching "A Family Holiday" and skimming through the GR Wiki.**

**Yes, this is mostly Holix despite the beginning. Just be patient and follow the words. Also, Five may be a bit OOC since we haven't seen much of her, but I did the best I could.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Generator Rex or any associated characters.**

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><p><em><span>Five, Six, and a Holiday<span>_

They sit over coffee. It's a natural thing, her sipping at the hot brew while he stares on at other things like the menu he's seen a hundred times and the same exit sign that's hung there for years now, taking in the world around him, mind elsewhere.

She's noticed. Plenty of times. Plenty. She can read the difference in him. He's distracted. He's unfocused. He's daydreaming. It's like he's turned into someone else overnight. Well, not overnight. All it takes is five months and a deal with Providence to turn a hardcore ninja into an active mercenary with a stray mind.

She knows. She knows him too well to not pick up on the signs. She's seen it once before, once and only once. The way he won't look at her. The way he's not even looking at anything. She can follow his gaze and note that he's looking at the edge between the ceiling of the coffee shop and the side wall that crooks off at an angle.

There's that lingering silence. He's fingering his mug but not drinking. The silence is normal, but usually he'll at least pay more attention than this. She knows him too well not to pick up on the signs.

"Six."

His head snaps to her. He takes in the pink hair and the rugged look that she wears and the attitude she carries and truly realizes who he's with. Some part of his mind files away the thoughts from a moment ago and he's back in motion, back to Six. "Five." As always, his reply is curt but gentle in a way. It's the way he is with her. Gentle, but still stiff in his usual ninja-way.

"Do we need to talk?" she asks softly and gives him an almost commanding look. It's a look that says "We're going to talk no matter what you say", so he's quiet for a few long moments. She speaks up again. "Six."

He doesn't answer, but now takes a sip of his coffee and looks into the mug instead of over it at her; and that's how she knows. He stays quiet. He doesn't want to talk. She's the most dangerous woman in the world. He doesn't want to say what he's thinking.

The worst part is that she'd understand and she'd smile and be happy for him. But he knows she'd be secretly dying on the inside... wouldn't she? Maybe he doesn't know her as well as he thought. He isn't sure anymore. He hasn't been able to focus on her anymore. It's sad, really. He knows he's failing her. He's known for a while now.

"What's on your mind, love?" The British slang doesn't mean much nowadays. She calls him "love" because she means it. She takes another sip from her mug and holds it just like that for a long moment, not drinking, just breathing. When he doesn't answer again, she puts down the coffee and looks at him with loyal brown eyes. Again, she says his name. "Six."

"Five."

She's always had a self-awareness that few people can keep a good grip on. She's confident in what she knows at that moment. "This is the end of the line." It's not a question; it's a statement. She knows they're done. She can tell just by his mannerisms. He's a bit closed off. He would almost always look at her over their morning coffee and not speak. Staring off is different. She wasn't sure how much he could've changed in five months, but he'd changed severely enough that he was someone different, someone no longer in love.

He doesn't answer. He takes another drink of his coffee.

With an almost satisfied smirk, she takes this as confirmation. She knew. She's not upset. He's always been a bit more of a friend to her than a lover, but she would never complain. They'd always been good friends. Being two of the most dangerous people in the world had a tendency to bring people together. She then leans back in her chair and keeps watching him, waiting for something to be said. Things are done and she knows. So when's he going to explain?

He's still quiet as ever, sunglasses eternally shading his eyes.

"So, who is she?"

He looks up, and Five gives another little smirk. He's immediately questioning himself as to who would lie to Five and tell her he was cheating on her. Because he wasn't. At all. Ever. He was faithful. Mostly.

"Doctor Rebecca Holiday."

"Sounds fancy." She sips her coffee and watches him through those deep brown eyes that are now aglow with questions that she'll probably never get answered. "And what does she do at Providence?"

He almost wonders if she had completely missed him saying "doctor". He's watching her through his black sunglasses. "She studies nanites."

One snaps into Five's mind, but she brushes it away. She knows what nanites are. Everyone knows what nanites are. "She one of the blokes looking for the cure you're talking about?"

He nods.

She isn't jealous. No, really. She's happy for him. He deserves someone special. Or at least better than her. "Is she beautiful?"

Him and his one-word responses. "Very."

Five smirks, knowing all too well how much that one word can say. She can read it in his voice, in the way his mouth forms the word, the way he sounds so determined to say it, almost a bit like he's trying to convince himself. But she knows. She knows how to read between the lines.

He thinks he's unworthy.

"Listen, love," she says, back onto the friendship stage of the world. She's never shied away from giving him advice before and backing down from helping him now would be a disgrace. She wanted to help him if at all possible. "Go after her. Get her." Five's hand reaches across the table and covers Six's. "Keep her."

He almost smiles. Almost. One corner of his lips curls up for a nanosecond before disappearing in the blink of an eye. If she hadn't seen it, she never would've believed it possible. Six. Smiling. Never in a million years. Never.

Five stands up and grabs the neck of her guitar, slinging the strap over her shoulder and sliding the instrument so that it's hanging on her back. She puts a few bills that she pulls out of her pocket on the table while holding her coffee in one hand. As she walks past him towards the door, she gives him a little whack to the back of the head. "And don't screw it up this time, you nit."

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><p><strong>AN: Review?**

**~Sky**


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